Dissasembly
by RendedHeart
Summary: Sequel to a story. Original here: /s/8846900/1/Bound-by-Flame After seemingly endless years of torture in his cage, Wilson holds a possibility of freedom in his hand. Will he use it, and risk setting Bolas free, or will his veins run dry? Find out in the sequel to Bound by Flame: Disassembly.
1. Chapter 1

When one is locked out, shut down, forced to hide, what does one do? One becomes desperate. All will fall at the hand of that desperation.- First Prophecy of the Curious.

Eons ago three powerful entities were sealed in a cage of immense proportions. Nicol bolas, the god, Wesly Rice, the traitor, and Jacob Wilson, the curious. All of these powerful being were planeswalkers, and had the power to kill with naught but their minds. Bolas was the scourge of the multiverse, the only being capable of destroying entire planes effortlessly. Wesly was his apprentice, and a personal friend of Wilson. Wilson was the defender of earth, and the seer of his time. The cage in which these three were imprisoned was impenetrable, or so was thought. With the combined might of three Planeswalkers, nothing is impossible. After eons of torture, scheming, and gathering knowledge, the prison is about to crack. A fissure, is about to let one escape. A blank void in the multiverse waited. Emptied of its once greatest plane, earth.

Wesly channeled his energy, sparks flying from his hands, mana flowing into his soul. The last mana, in fact. This was the thousandth attempt at breaking free, and only one thing separated it from all the previous failures, the planeswalker Wilson lent assistance. Wilson and Wesly had both been raised by the witch Lelliana Vess, but even before Wesly and Wilson had known each other. Lelliana had brainwashed Wilson's mind, and Wesly's as well. After eons in this cage, however Wesly's mind was his own.

"Are we all clear on the plan?" Wilson asked, giving a wink toward Wesly.

"Not much to it," Bolas said, his voice a gnarled twist of lies and deciet. Wesly simply nodded. Once the veil between earth and the multiverse had been torn, Wesly had been instructed by Bolas to tear the portal open from the other side, with the help of Chandra and Jace, the only two surviving planeswalkers. Nicol Bolas had enslaved Jace after his defeat, and he stationed him on the plane of Ravnica, city of Guilds. Chandra would most likely be on Innistrad with Thalia and, unbeknownst to Bolas, Lelliana. All three women needed Wilson alive for their own reasons. This was assuming that they were even still alive. Thalia was most likely to be dead of old age, and Lelliana could have very well been slain by Chandra. Chandra was still alive because Wilson was, for they were permanently conjoined by their souls. It was time to stop thinking however, as the fissure in the shield was about to fall.

"Now!" Wilson said, giving Wesley a trusting look. They had their own plans, a way to stop bolas. Wesly took into the air, propelled by magical flames spurting from his fists. Freedom was his, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. Wilson collapsed as Wesly left the plane, and Bolas was the only thing that remained with him. Wesly turned to face Ravnica, not to seek Jace, but to make a delivery, and to hopefully never return.

Rakdos parties are... Interesting to say the least. Blood and gore were never exactly his taste, although Wilson would love partying with the undead. Howls and screeches filled the air, and blood dripped from the ceiling. It didn't take Wesly long to find the individual he was looking for. He might not be able to escape the cage, but he could send a message with ease. The boy scrambled up to him, holding his hand out. His piercing bobbed up and down as he strode, scraping his chin with the barb. His hair was jet black, streaked with red. Blood dripped slowly from his mouth, splattering against the floor, flowing to the corpse he had just ripped a chunk of flesh from. Tendons and gristle fell from between his fingers, dragging across his arms, leaving tendrils of blood that curled all the way down to his elbow, where the streams conjoined and flew off, the droplets scattering across the floor, and then rejoining into one pool at the lowest ground point. Wesley looked at the pool before simply crossing over it and striding to the boy. The boy eyed Wesley as his rioting behavior slowly calmed. Wesley reached into his satchel, and drew forth a ring. Three scars from where the ring had once shattered shone, reflecting off near fires. Wesley pulled the ring inward, silent and quick, scarcely avoiding the man's grasp. Snarls flew from between the mans lips. He grasped at his side, removed a pouch, and hurled it at Wesley. Wesley caught it in one deft grasp, then threw himself across the blind eternities without a second thought, dropping the ring to the ground. The boy turned the ring left behind in his hands. A key to into infinite power. The secret to the victory of Rakdos. The ring slipped onto his finger of its own accord, plunging spikes deep into the finger of the boy, rooting itself into him. He lurched, writhed, and finally, collapsed in a pile on the ground. His body didn't stop twitching for days, however. The day it stopped twitching, it was no longer his. The ring was an artifact that could hold a part of someone's soul, and it allowed the entity to dominate the mind of the wearer. As it turned out, Bolas was the only person stall in the cage.

Wilson dragged himself toward the Izzet guild gate.

"The hell do you want!" Wilson shouted over his shoulder, eying the gateless rebels behind him. The gateless rebels simply roared as a mob, quickly advancing upon Wilson. Wilson's arm bled and oozed, and his fingertips scarcely flared as he tried to cast the most simple of spells. The body he had inherited was weak, and its magical properties were useless in their current state. Lightning shot by Wilson's face, fiery and discolored. The bolt had come from a guildmage. He was tall in stature and appeared to be very old. Then is smacked Wilson in the face like a frisbee. That was blue magic! The spell had created a wall of fog. The man grabbed Wilson's wrist,

"Nice ring," he eerily toned, "mind if I take a look?" Wilson writhed, struggled, pulled, but to no avail. The man removed the ring from Wilson's finger, and sent the boy back through the wall of fog. "I am the architect of thought," he said, eyeing the ring, "but you know me as Jace Berlin." He held no surprise at seeing another planeswalker. Jace had waited, careful and predictably, eons for Bolas to break free, but he was not disappointed at his lack of arrival. "I suppose you have many questions for me," Jace started, "and I many for you." Jace took the ring in his palm, careful not to let is slip onto his finger, then stood straight, walked forward, and smiled. For the first time in his life he felt truly free.


	2. Chapter 2

Jace fixated the circlet in his palm into the chest of a mizzium golem. The golem was sleek and thin, capable of running swiftly and jumping higher than an human. The golem had tubes and wires running down its arms, but those were soon covered by a hinged plate, easily removable by the owner. Jace sighed,

"That should get you on your feet." Wilson sprung to life, quickly and smoothly.

"I can't breath!" Wilson panicked quietly.

"Relax, you're in a golem," Jace calmed smoothly. Wilson shifted his eyes upward, taking in the image before him. Jace's cloak bore the symbol of the Izzet, a guild of mad scientists on Ravnica. His cloak was blue with red tassels and fringe.

"Ugh..." Wilson let out, "where is the firemind?"

"Dead..." Jace's voice sounded cold, depressed even. Wilson's eyes shot to Jace's, and he jumped to him, perhaps filed by rage, or perhaps it was simply his insatiable curiosity,

"How?" Jace recounted the tale of the Dragon planeswalker that had come to Ravnica for its most valuable resource, Mana. Ten armies of Ten guilds united and stood against him. The leaders of two guilds were slain, including those of Izzet and Dimir. The entire Dimir guild fell as well, however. Eventually the dragon retreated, and peace on Ravnica was restored.

"I became the new leader of my guild," Jace finished his tale. Wilson shifted, clearly ready to question,

"Do you truly believe that Dimir has been eliminated?" Jace took little surprise in this question,

"Do you believe Ravnica could stay standing without it?" Wilson accepted this answer, but was not finished with his questions entirely,

"Where is Chandra Nallar?" Jace smirked, clearly aware that this was coming,

"She is not on Ravnica, and only two other planes remain. Mirrodin and Innistrad." Wilson nodded, preparing to finish with one final question, but he held his tongue for now. Jace had questions of his own,

"Where is Nicol Bolas?" Wilson took pleasure in answering this question,

"Still in his cage." Jace smiled,

"Anything else?"

"Yes," Wilson paused, "where is the Boros guildgate?"


	3. Chapter 3

Wesley stalked along a path. It was the same path he had been walking for hours, and of the thousands he had walked, he had determined this was the one he sought. He was looking for a fortune teller, not a palm reading phony, but an actual seer, one capable of telling the answer to any question. The seer, however only answered the questions of powerful beings, and only those that she deemed intelligent. She was older than the newest of the planeswalkers, whose power was rare among the few planes that remained. Only ten existed, and that included the elder ones.

Wesley lifted his palm too the path that lay before him, his mind clear, once again he asked,

"Have I made the right choice?" He still felt guilty about leaving bolas in that cage.

"That is for you to decide," a voice called out. Wesley spun, eyeing the woman who had snuck up on him. Her hair was pure white, pouring over her shoulders. Her body was shriveled, a tiny thing of small proportions, but immense power. Her eyes were still very much alive, for they were filled with flames, and burned into his mind, depriving him of his secrets.

"You most certainly don't think so," she continued, striding down the path, "but I have faith in your decision." He took in a sharp breath, expelling his chest outward. He took his first step down the path, slowly yet excitedly, until he took another. Soon he had followed the woman all the way down the path to a house. It was more of a shack, really. It was carved from scorched wood, hardened by the flame brought to it. The woman led Wesley inside. It was dark, and the only source of light seemed to be the woman herself. She hobbled over to a table,

"He will break free, and the final planes are going to burn with his coming." She eyed Wesley. He would fit it perfectly. She threw closet doors open nearby. Inside was an entire armor set. It was blue with white swirls, and the right gauntlet held a whip.

"It's yours," she said. The armor had belonged to a long-lost lover and friend. A planeswalker. An ally. The armor fit Wesley perfectly. It seemed almost as though it had been made for him. The woman passed him the set, and then vanished, dissipating from sight. The house soon followed, then the path until Wesly stood alone in the woods. He needed to prepare. Hell would soon be bearing down on him.

He walked out of the forest, slowly approaching the legendary gates of thraben. The city was home to the witch Lillana Vess, and was that of the hero of humanity, Thalia. The two had both known Wilson, and with any luck Chandra could be found as well. Wesly approached cautiously, prepared. The ambush couldn't catch him of guard, however. The spark was easy enough to notice. A plansewalker, newly ascended, burst from thraben, through the wall, out to Wesly's feet. The planeswalker threw himself to his feet and bolted back to the city, however no-one was moving, arrows themselves were caught midway. Wesly snached the kid with his whip and tugged her back from the city.

"That's a time bubble, kid," Wesly said, "once you're in, you don't come out.

"But I need to help Thalia!" She said, grudgingly getting to her feet, "we've been fighting Lelliana for years!"

"If Thalia is still alive in there, then it hasn't been years," Wesly paused, "it has been millennia."

"I don't think I understand."

"Time passes slower in there than in here, therefore it has been years for you, but millennia for everyone else."

"What caused this!" The girl screeched, "I will tear its flesh from its bones!" Wesly simply gave the girl a steady look. "Oh," was all she had to say.

"I'm looking for allies," Wesly started, "and a planeswalker who can control time could indeed be very useful."

"Planeswalker?" The girl questioned. Wesly recounted the tale of how there used to be hundreds of planes, and how Nicol Bolas threatened the stability of the multiverse, and became a god. Wesley recounted the trap Wilson placed, and the cage that was about to crack.

"With Thalia gone I have no path, so I shall follow you to victory," she said lowering to one knee.

"May light guide your path," Wesly ended.


	4. Chapter 4

It was odd seeing a Mizzium golem stride through the street. Why would the architect of thought make such a thing? What. Could it do? Why had the Izzet revealed it? Why did it just stride into the Boros legion? Wilson treaded straight through the front doors, eying his surroundings. His entire life he had been exploiting others for personal gain, but today he shifted in with the rest, today he joined the legion. He was greeted by a pair of Wojek Halberders.

"Halt, Golem," they barked.

"I seek to join," Wilson scarcely let out. Speaking with a golem was not a simple task

"There's no way in hell you don't work for the Izzet," one of them said.

"I thought all were welcome among the Legion?"

"Wait!" An officer shouted, bolting toward Wilson, "there's no way in hell I'm going to refuse the help of a Mizzium golem." The officer eyed Wilson, "but you start with the rest, deal?" The officer stuck out his hand. Wilson grasped it, careful not to destroy the bones in it. After the odd handshake, Wilson went off to basic training.

"Why sir?" The second Halberder asked.

"Because the Izzet may think that this will help them keep an eye on us, but truly we can learn of them."

Wilson continued over to the instructor,

"Wilson," he said. The instructor sighed, marking on the paper,

"You start tomorrow, go find an empty bunk." Wilson strode in, clambered to a top bunk, and shut himself down temporarily. He would be prepared for anything that were to come.

He awoke with a start, a pair of women were poking at his eyes with a stick.

"Please stop," he said, his voice still hoarce.

"It does speak!" One said.

"Holy shit!" Said another. Wilson jumped out of the bed, landing on the floor in a crouched position,

"Yes, I speak, now what the hell do you want?" He slowly stood up.

"Just looking for a place to bunk," one stepped forward, piercing him with her eyes. She offered him her hand. "Katherine." He took it, careful not to break her bones, and shook it lightly,

"I am a male golem," he said.

"Golem's can't have physical attributes of such, therefore despite what you identify as," she said. Wilson's thoughts drafted back to his sister. This girl was virtually identical, except for her hair. His sister's hair had been brown, but his girl was blonde. Here hair was bobbed and her eyes were a bark blue that may as well have been black. Her hands were bony and had abnormally long fingers. Her head was square shaped. She was virtually the spitting image for his sister. She would also, unbeknownst to him, become his partner and shield-mate. He shut himself down again. He was going to do his life right this time.

Wilson snapped his eyes open, or he would if they were real eyes. He threw his sleek chassis out of bed, landing in utter scilence. The girls were still asleep. Their eyelids fluttering as they dreamt. Wilson slid his legs upward, and he took silent steps forward until he had reached the door, then he slipped outside. The sun was still down, but the moon was massive in the sky, and Vitu-Ghazi could be seen in its circle.

"Hey," Katherine said, startling Wilson as she did. Wilson looked up. Katherine was sitting on the roof, staring into the moon.

"Couldn't sleep?" Wilson finally replied.

"Nah, you?" She responded.

"Actually I don't sleep," Wilson ended. Katherine opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the screeching of a drill sergeant,

"Get your asses out of bed and to the courtyard!"

"Race you there?" Katherine asked.

"Done," Wilson responded, breaking out in full sprint over the roof.

"No fair!" Katherine shouted, bursting through the hall. Wilson bursted off the roof, landing in a roll on the ground, then springing up. Striding over, and greeting Katherine, who had somehow beat him.

"That was," Wilson paused, searching for the right word, "unexpected." Katherine smirked, then fell in line with the other recruits, who had finally arrived.

"Alright!"the sergeant shouted, sizing up the recruits and passing out uniforms, "you all are going to run a fitness test. This test is going to determine how well you work with others, and your physical prowess."

Wilson was surprised to find that he was not an oddity among the recruits. There were minotaurs, elves, goblins, and Viashino. Other races were scattered about, but a golem was not an oddity here. The commander continued on his blabbering as Wilson examined his competition. Next thing he knew, he had had his wrist chained to Katherine.

"Wait, what is this," Wilson asked.

"Guess we're working in pairs," she said, sighing. Wilson examined Katherine. She was scrawny, not well made for combat, but she looked quick. A gong sounded, signaling the start of the race, and the contestants broke out toward the finish line.

First, several poles blocked the contestants from furthering. Some contestants tried to climb, others threw each other. Wilson gripped Katherine and pressed her back to his. She opened her mouth to question, but then saw the plan. Foot over foot, leg over leg, the two climbed between two poles, pushing themselves together with their backs. They were the first to cross that obstacle.

The next was swimming. Wilson could not swim, however Katherine could. Wilson could simply walk across the bottom of the pool, but Katherine would drown. The top of the pool had mesh barbed wire, to make it hard to breathe. It took long enough, but Katherine came up with a solution. Wilson tight-rope walked over, Katherine sprawled over his shoulders. Soon they made it to the other side. They had reached dead last. Their sprinting brought them to fourth.

The last obstacle did not seem hard at first glance, and Wilson foolhardily ran in. Wires dangled down, and the second Wilson touched one, he hit the ground, his chassis shorting out. He had just ran into a wall of tazers. He could barely see, but he made out his new shield mate dragging him across the finish line. Her skin was charred, sparks still flying off. Her hair lit fire and it was raining. She had both hands on the chains connecting them, and she slung them over her shoulder. She was dragging him across the finish line, in last place, enduring more pain than he thought was possible. His eyes shut out again, and his chassis slumped to the ground once he passed the finish line. He still heard her war cry, though.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, he's awake!" Katherine shouted, other recruits shoving into the lab.

"And the mighty heroes live yet!"

"Nice job out there!"

"You rule!"

"The hell is going on here?" Wilson asked, "we took dead last."

"It was a test, not a race," Katherine said, "and we were the only ones to pass. Ever." She took in a deep breath, and Wilson could see the excitement in her eyes, "We're going to train directly under the warleader!" Wilson found himself short of breath. Naturally, a golem that didn't breathe was always short of breath, but he was especially short of breath now. He could not wait! It was time for everything to change. A viashino burst between the doors,

"Wilson! You have a very important visitor!" Jace Berlin strode through the open doors, his cloak billowing behind him,

"I have a small modification to make to your chassis," Jace said, a smile creeping onto his face, "you need a bit more of a... Spark..." Before Wilson could say anything, Jace grabbed a cylinder and rammed it into the ring floating in his chest. He pulled it, and immediately strode out of the room. Wilson could feel the unignited spark inside him, pulling at the edges of his sanity, but not creating any tears. His mind was a strongbox. The spark was unignit, but still burned inside him. He held power. He was a Mage again. He was a planeswalker. He sprung from his bed, chasing after Jace.

"Why?" He demanded, spinning Jace to face him.

"Because this world needs a protecter, and soon I will be incapable of filing that quota. He is returning, and I am oathed to him. The final planes will burn with his coming, and we need more soldiers," Jace ended, turning on his foot and marching off in the opposite direction. Wilson knew what he had to do. It would take a lot of firepower, but he could do it. The following years would be arduous, he would train till he fried his hard-drive, and his chassis black with smoke and ash. He would pull through. Wilson lay in his bed after everyone left, except Katherine.

"Why'd you do it," Wilson asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"What?" Katherine said, dancing around the question.

"Sign up with the legion?" Wilson asked.

"You first," she said, still stalling on the subject.

"I want to make up for my past sins. I've committed genocides, wiped civilizations off the map, and," Wilson stopped, searching for the right word, "involved myself with demons."

"well, that tops my reason," Katherine said, trying to weasel out of the question.

"Tell me anyways," Wilson said. Katherine sighed,

"Some lawmages wanted to stop me from ascending in the senate too quickly, so they passed a law that required me to have experience in government outside of my branch. I snuck around the law by arguing that the legion was a branch of government. I was planning on leaving, but how do you deny an offer like this?"

"Yeah," Wilson said, "I was planning to get some basic training under my belt, then head back to the Izzet, but now..."

"Back?" Katherine asked.

"Who do you think built me," Wilson responded.

"We should probably gather our possessions and then head out. Aurelia expects to see us at the crack of dawn in the morning. Wilson nodded. This was the first test, they could tell. It was to compliment each other's strengths and weaknesses. After some discussion, it was agreed. Wilson did not need to sleep, so he should carry their possessions and her. It would be a long walk to their training grounds. On occasion, Katherine would get up and walk with Wilson because the ride was too bumpy, but in the end it worked out the moon was still up when Aurelia greeted them, and they were both functioning properly. Aurelia smirked,

"No wasting time. We get to work now." Wilson and Katherine both let out,

"Ma'am yes Ma'am," before following her to the single hardest challenge of all time. They were to work together to defeat her in thousands of battle scenarios. She was often outnumbered, surrounded, even under equipped. She watched the two intently, impressed by their collaboration, but waiting for something else. Something would have to snap. Wilson didn't even know he could get tired until they reached the halfway mark. This time they were entirely even in troops, supplies, and armaments. She decimated their forces, but she saw it. Wilson, who had been slumping sat up straight, jerking his chair forward.

"That's what the Boros legion is all about isn't it," Wilson said, smiling maniacally.

"You alright?" Katherine asked.

"Better than alright," Wilson replied. He leaned forward and set his elbows onto the table, crossing his fingers under his chin, miming Aurelia's appearance. He called out his actions without even looking, his eyes locked onto his opponent. He started winning, despite how cocky he was. Katherine, however, was just confused.

"Why is the outnumbered person always winning?" Katherine finally asked, still immensely confused.

"It's what the legion is all about, turning a disadvantage into an advantage," Wilson started, "the lower ground was a death trap for the cavalry, because I had less men I was able to move my forces unnoticed, and my lack of resources gave my men something to fight for." It took naught but moments for Katherine to realize it too.

Aurelia's smirk never faltered. After each battle the two won, she simply began to enjoy herself more.

" I may have underestimated you two," she said, gleeful that her prodigies were learning. "It is time to take to another practice," she continued. Wilson and Katherine exchanged glances, weary of the events to come. "People will always be evil. Someone will always hold themselves in primary interest. It is our place to stop them," Aurelia said, "even if we resort to violence." Aurelia quickly drew forth a sword. Wilson lifted his arm to stop the blade of purifying fire Aurelia had pulled on them. She reeled her arms for a second blow. Wilson lifted the table they had been performing battle scenarios on, and skewered in in the sword Aurelia was holding. Aurelia dropped the sword and pressed her hands together, shooting a beam of light at them. Wilson threw it off his chest, and picked up Katherine. He hurled her toward Aurelia who gripped her mid air and threw her back, knocking them both out. "You still have much to learn," Aurelia said, Wilson's audio tubes dying out.


	6. Chapter 6

Wilson eventually woke. He was in the same room as before, still laying with Katherine on top. He lifted her off him and lay her across two chairs, the only pieces of furniture that hadn't been skewered. She had a small bruise on the neck where it connected to the base of her head. After he had sufficiently positioned her safely he stepped away and collapsed on the ground, letting his batteries recharge. The next time he woke he was doing battle scenarios again, and again, and again. He fought Aurelia as well. This course maintained its balance for one year, and then they were free. No longer a prodigy of Aurelia, Katherine returned to the Azorious, quickly advancing in their ranks. Wilson, however, stayed and led charges personally. He had become a master of strategy and was adept at fighting. He had never lost a battle until they led a charge on some overly-rancorous Gruul.

Wilson was the only troop not hollering a war cry. The men were barging into their final push, with two squadrons of bomber corp toward the backs of their ranks, protected by some viashino clad in steel. The rest of the force was primarily halberders and peasant recruits. Wilson charged into the rage pits first, and he left instantly as well. The second he enter the fist of a massive cyclops struck him and sent his chassis flying. The other troops charged in, slashing down thragtusk and maakas. Wilson sprung to his feet and rushed to his opponent. He stared the cyclops down in his one eye.

"Borgyboromos," Wilson said before jumping to the air. He delivered a fireball at point blank range, hurtling Borgy into a massive tree-tower Borgy stood at one end of the tree, and Wilson on the other. With surprising speed, Borgy stomped on the tree, hurtling Wilson toward him. Borgy gorged his fist into Wilson's chassis, splitting it and leaving Wilson with only one arm, his head, and the ring at his core. He eyed the ring as he panicked at the fast approaching cathedral. All he wanted was to get out of there before he hurt anyone. His spark soon burned, the remainder of his body ignited in a pure flame. He shot from the plane, leaving a fiery streak in the sky. It didn't take long for him to reach the ground again. He landed in a nice, soft, pile of darksteel myr.


	7. Chapter 7

"I think I'vs found something!" Wesly shouted up the stairs of the Izzet library. The nearby chronarch shot him a harsh look that quickly made Wesly's lips tight. His new apprentice bolted down the stairs. She wore blue jeans and had black lipstick, with a fedora added on top.

"What?" The apprentice asked.

"It's called a door to nothingness. Supposedly we can use two of each color of mana to open it, and it will suck bolas inside. Izzy this could be the key to defeating Bolas!" Wesly said. The coronarch shushed them once again, disappointed in their loud behavior.

"Shall I warn Domri and you Jace?" Izzy asked.

"Jace is on the wrong side unfortunately, but I might have another planeswalker to talk to," Wesly said, bolting outside.

"Who?" Izzy asked.

"Someone older than me," Wesly said, spiraling toward the sky. He needed to get back to Innistrad. Izzy sat there alone now. She kicked a can as she walked toward the rage pits. She hated being left in the dark. Wesly was the only person she actively conversed with, and although she hated him, he was truly her only friend. She heard a sharp,

"Meow!" As she kicked the can. It had encountered a stray cat. It looked at her with its glassy eyes, seemingly drawn to her. She let her arm down and it climbed up, wrapping itself over her shoulders as though it was a scarf. She continued walking, now entertained by scratching the ears of her purring friend. She soon stood over the rage pits, looking down on it from a ledge. Borgyborgamos and Domri were shouting some incoherent madness. Others Gruul appeared to be celebrating, perhaps from an earlier victory. Izzy slid down the cliff, her friend gripping into her skin with its claws. She didn't mind though, she shamed people who declawed cats. The massive. Cyclops waved a drumstick toward her as she approached.

"Izzy!"

"Borgy!" They exchanged. She soon looked over and said,

"Domri."

"Izzy," Domri returned, "so, what can I do for you?"

"Wesly and I have found a way to stop the cat once it's out of the bag. And by cat I mean god," Izzy said

"How?" Domri instantly asked, leaning in closer as Borgy distracted himself with more food.

"The door to nothingness," Izzy said, continuing to explain the plan that she and Wesly were going to use. Perhaps their only chance. They needed one more thing. Firepower.

Wesly crashed to the surface of Innistrad, right on the path that led to the "seer's" house. Because he knew where it was, the house appeared of its own accord. He threw the door open to the woman chuckling. She was now wearing armor that was far to big for her.

"I was wondering when you'd figure it out ," The woman said.

"I'm a bit ashamed I didn't see your spark before," Wesly responded, "I need your help."

"I know. I've known your plan for a while," she said.

"How?" Wesly asked

"With Wilson gone I had to come up with a plan on my own, and that meant research," She said, lifting a tablet off the table and striding past Wesly as she changed her form, morphing to fit the armor. Her white hair shone a burning auburn as she passed Wesly. "Let's be going, shall we?" Chandra said as she strapped her goggles to her forehead.


	8. Chapter 8

Wilson slowly opened his eyes. He had been shut off for quite some time, and he didn't want to be late for the battle against the Gruul. He sat straight up,

"The Gruul!" he said aloud. He looked at himself. There was a crude scar that connected his shining mizzium body to his new, darksteel parts. He could move his arm easily enough, but it only had three fingers, and no thumb. All three fingers were sharp however, and with a slash of his wrist he left a deep gash in the ground. He stood. His legs were firm, and because they were stronger, he could leap higher and run further. He glanced over to his side. A myr stood there, looking at him.

"Did you do this?" The myr nodded vigorously. "Do you have a name?" The myr simply shook its head . "Think you could make a human skeleton out of this stuff?" Wilson asked, grinning with his mizzium lips. The myr left him and got straight to work. He forged the bones in only a few muinets.

"Thanks," Wilson said, giddy with a plan, "Unfortunately I can't stay. There's a biomancer I need to see." The myr looked at the sky Wilson had left from. He would miss that golem. If it even could miss something. It returned to its work in the Titan forge.

Wilson streaked through the blind eternities, rapidly approaching Ravnica. His plan was simple, get new body, kick ass. Darksteel bones could prove themselves to be the ultimate weapon against bolas. Hopefully with an old favor and a little "friendly" persuasion, the biomancer Hampton would help him make a new body.

"Absouloutly not!" Hampton belted, angrily eyeing the golem, "do you have any idea how short lived you would be? You could survive a few day at best, at best!"

"How many times have I saved your ass from law mages?" Wilson spat back.

"Not enough!" Hampton raged. Wilson fumed at her, scarcely able to maintain his temper.

"Why?" He asked, "why wouldn't I live?"

"Bone marrow. Without it you can't produce new blood." Wilson threw the bag of bones into the air, then used his magic to bore holes. Hampton sighed.

"I'll get to work then," she said.

"Thanks," Wilson replied, "I really needed this." Hampton simply grumbled. Wilson walked to the exit and took in a deep, long breath. It served no purpose other than to remind him that inside he was still a human. He decided to pay Mirrodin a visit while he waited for it to be done. And with that, he bolted across the blind eternitys, moving at speeds only possible for a planeswalker. He came crashing to the ground, his darksteel colliding with the shining metal that made up the ground. The myr he had met earlier walked up to him, glad to see Wilson once again. Wilson patted the myr on the head, but the myr chucklehead scurried off and beckoned for Wilson to follow. Wilson did as the myr seemed to want, and followed the myr to a massive stricter in which large chassis of titans were being built.

"A true weapon against bolas." Wilson muttered, awed by the towering structure. He knew what he had to do. Wilson loaded heaps of metal into the forge, pumping out titans faster than he thought possible. Soon, the only source of metal left was the ground itself. The myr looked to Wilson and soon bra bed him around the leg. Wilson stopped, confused but with realization on its way. He was being hugged. For the first time in millennia he had received a hug. If he was capable of crying, he would not be holding back. The last time he was hugged he was still training with Chandra.

"Wilson!" Chandra called, "get your ass out here! We have work to do " Wilson did not move from his spot in the dirt. His legs were off to the side, bent at the knees. His hair hung down in his face as he slumped over. And the last feature was a steady stream of water flowing from his eyes to the edge of his hair. Chandra knocked Wilson on the back of his head, "move!" Wilson just sat there and waited, it didn't take long for Chandra to see the tears, and even less to see the skeleton. The face was half-rotten, half perfectly preserved.

"She's just some-"

"She's not just some dead girl," Wilson interrupted,

"she was one of my closest friends and I killed her."

"No you didn't," Chandra reassured. Wilson pointed at the bite marks along her neck.

"I commanded every zombie on this entire planet. Her name was Gabby. We met our sophomore year, attended the rest high school together and when the world went to shit we survived together."

"I'm sorry," Chandra said, before wrapping her arms around Wilson in a hug. She knew what it was like to lose the people closest to you, friends and family, but she had never known how it felt to have their blood on your own hands.

Wilson quickly snapped out of his daydream. He had work to do. He parted with the myr, and returned to the blind eternitys. Once again, the myr was sad to see him go.


	9. Chapter 9

Izzy rushed along, hoping to get back to Wesly before the sun set. She had spent nearly all day making battle preparations for when Nicol Bolas would come. But, they had a poor excuse for an army. Bolas would undoubtably take to the blind eternitys for battle and even with Domri, Wesly, and she they stood no chance. Jace would undoubtably be taking measured against them once Bolas landed, and eight guilds would not be enough to bring bolas down. A sudden burst of light caught her attention, distracting her and causing her to fall into the mud.

"Fuckin hell," she said, picking herself up, only to slip back down into the mud.

"Sorry! Sorry!" The stranger the burst of light had come from said. He offered her his three-fin weed hand and she picked herself off the ground with his help, and before they knew it, they could see each other's sparks.

"Hey, you're a! Stop that! I seriously need your help with something!" The two said, their words matching perfectly.

"I need your help in organizing the defense of Ravnica. There is a powerful planeswalker on the war and this world will burn with his com-" Izzy was caught short by the dragon claws sticking through her neck and drowning her in her own blood. The dragon planeswalker was free. The cut would seem clean because most of the blood ran into her lungs, as she was still alive. The air in her lungs bubbled to the top as blood rushed in to take its place. The blood in her mouth seemed to boil because of this. With each individual pop blood ran down her chest, and then around her hips and down her left leg where it welled up inside her boot, never touching the ground. But she lived yet, and the mouth is not the only entry to the lungs. The blood coming out of her nose came slowly at first, but then it came quicker as she tilted her head back to see her killer. It quickly found the eyes a good low ground and pooled there, leaving a sting in her eyes as the blood seeped back in. Then came the crying. Her eyes were solid crimson by now, haunting any who stared into them. The crying rushed the blood backwards into her hair, soaking it until it dripped off the end, spiraling down her left shoulder and placing itself in her shoe until it was so full of blood it fell off. Then, the reanimation came. Her blood still dripped from her mouth endlessly, and her eyes were always moving, despite being one solid color. Her fingernails cracked off and sharp claws grew in their place. Her hair mostly fell out, but blood still drenched the forehead as it came from the hairline. She retched up the remainder of her insides whole, first the heart, then the lungs at the same time. Soon after the brain was left in a trail on the ground as she got on o all fours and let them loose. Soon after she grabbed all the intestines and pulled them out of her mouth until only the stomach and the esophagus remained. The rest was skin and bones. Bolas tossed her to the side and marched toward Wilson, his eyes full of spite.

"You abandoned me!" Bolas said, his voice as twisted as ever, "you left me in that place to rot!"

"How the hell did you get out!" Wilson asked.

"Phrexian mana," Bolas said, circling his prey. Wilson remained sinner after this, for the only reason he had spoken to bolas was to dig this information up. He charged a flame in his hand, and soon it was double in size. He looked to his right and there was Chandra, tossing him a wink. To his left stood Wesly, wearing proud armor and carrying a golden whip. "Now this hardly seem fair, three against one. How about I even the odds," Bolas said. Soon, two walking corpses dragged themselves from the bushes. Domri and Izzy, both undead. Wesly cried but did not utter a word. Immiediatly after the three were under attack. Wesly was trying to fight off Izzy, and Chandra dealt with Domri. Only Bolas was left, who Wilson charged at vigorously. He threw punches and struggled with all his might, but in the end bolas grabbed him and snapped him in two. Chandra died from the severed connection soon after, and Wesly was taken to the blind eternities as prisoner. A lone figure came to the bodies and stepped to the golem. She gripped the ring in the chassis tight and pulled it from the golem that lay in the center of the bodies. Hampton stood up and examined the ring.

"This sure as hell had better have been worth it Wilson," Hampton said, "Because come morning, there will be war."


	10. Chapter 10

Blue-green slime hurtled from the throat of a new body. It dripped down the chin as the eyes of a new boy awakened.

"Was it done just as I requested?" A voice called from the mouth dripping with slime. Another voice came from a dark corner,

"Domri found the body you spoke of and I used it to make most of your flesh, the rest is a thin mizzium plate under the skin, as requested. It was made pliable and the bones will survive the shifting."

"What about the ring?"

"I infused it into your blood, after liquefying it, of course."

"Thank you, Hampton," Wilson said, looking into the eyes of his savior, "I really do mean it." Hampton's only response was a cold,

"they're waiting for you upstairs, and my debt is repaid." And with that, she strode up the stairs, never looking back down to him. Wilson dawned a red shirt, his black vest, a brown D-ring belt, and on old hat that had been retrieved from his other corpse. It was a black fedora, or so it was called on earth. His friends Wesly and gabby used to steal it from him, and he would have to tear I from their hads just to make it to class on time. Those days were easy, and full of fun. He didn't have to plan a war. He climbed up the stairs on his hands and knees, and scarcely made it to his chair on a table of the guilds. There were ten others there. The eight remaining guild leaders, Domri and his shield-sister Katherine.

"Before we begin everyone must know hat the enemy will be upon us in a matter of hours, if not less. We are here to discuss strategy, not to decide who leads," Wilson said.

"I have already ensured their allegiances," Kathrine added.

"Good. Then let us begin. The Gruul will form the vanguard..." Wilson said, continuing to discuss their battle plan until it was fully formed. The Gruul would form the vanguard, followed by the Boros, Rakdos, and Golgari. The Azorious would form the rearguard, followed by the Simic, Selesnia, and Orzhov. They would prevent the Izzet and possibly House Dimir from charging them from the back. Wilson turned his head to Domri, and suddenly his eyes lie with shock.

"Next time you're going to impersonate someone, pick someone alive." Wilson said as he leapt from his chair and transformed into a werewolf upon will, striking down Lazav, the Dimir mastermind. He sank his claw. Deep into his face and cut the flesh down to his skull, all the while biting down on his throat with a jaw made of darksteel. Wilson kicked the body down the hall and returned to his chair, not a drop of blood on him.

"When Bolas lands what defensive position do we take?" Aurelia asked.

"You don't. You rush him and you get to him before he can hit you aggressively." Wilson replied.

"What if he flees?" Borgy grunted, shifting in his chair.

"I have prepared for that as well. There is an army of titans on the other side of the point at which he will land. They are led by an indestructible robot, commonly called a myr, and I will most likely be charging from that side with them." Wilson responded.

"Very well," Borgy said, "let us prepare."

The march to reach the landing zone of bolas was long, but eventually they reached it. Wilson's morals stemmed to slip from his chest, and his thoughts constantly returned to Chandra.

"Hey, you alright?" Katherine asked, concerned about how he would fare in the battle ahead.

"I sacrificed her just for an edge on Bolas. But, that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is that she's just a number. Her death is just another in the genocides I caused, she'll just fade awa-" Katherine left a sharp red mark on Wilson's face.

"You need to keep your mind clear! I can't lose you and these people need you! You did what you had to and it was necessary!" Wilson simply nodded and continued marching. A chronarch came rushing up to him, heaving and red-faced.

"Wesly," he huffed a few times, "was looking into this. You might need it. The chronarch hurried off into the distance. The tablet he had been handed was square, but the runes were distinct.

"Doorway to nothingness..." Wilson muttered, shocked that the artifact still existed. He rushed it under his robes and marched on. He would let no one else die.


	11. Final

"Are we all aware of the change?" Wilson said, eyeing his fellow generals. They smirked and nodded, disbelieving that he could preform what he had suggested. But, for all he cared they could go to hell, today everyone survives. The dragon plummeted from the skies, crashing into the spot where Wilson stood as he rolled out of the way.

"Bolas!" He screeched, igniting his hair the same way Chandra used to.

"You should be dead," he said, slowly turning to face Wilson. "We both saw in the prophecies that you would die and the multiverse would end! It is fate." "To hell with fate." Wilson threw his shirt open, dragging Bolas into the door to nothingness.

"No! This is not how it was meant to be!" Bolas said, terrified.

"I forge my own destiny." Wilson whispered into his ear, moments before ending the planeswalker. Forever. Wesly descended from the sky, looking into Wilson. Suddenly the two found themselves grasping, tears flowing from their eyes.

"So it has finally come to an end," Wesly said.

"No. We have a new beginning," Wilson replied. The two later took the the blind eternitys, forging a new plane that would be a kingdom for planeswalkers, and where the door would be used to bring those who disobeyed to justice. Eventually Lelliana found her way out of the time bubble and returned to her mischief. The guilds on Ravnica fell to the gateless rebels, who were assisted by the titans brought from Mirrodin. A new senate with real power was put in place, and Katherine became the head of it. Eventually, Wilson sent out a mission the retrieve artifacts from earth, and using the constitution of America, Ravnica drafted a new one. The werewolf blood in Wilson's veins never faded, and he eventually became the last of his kind. Finally, new planes were discovered, with new magic, and infinite possibilities. Wilson seemed to have inspired into others what he could never himself. Hope.


End file.
